


Sacrifice

by Rirren



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Captivity, Dark, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rirren/pseuds/Rirren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry discovers a way to possibly save Eileen and stop the ritual. All he has to do is sacrifice a part of himself.</p><p>Fanfiction of the fanfiction <a href="https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2438465/">Impaired</a> by Gaia Faye, where Walter is never interrupted in chapter 24.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Impaired](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/31413) by Gaia Faye. 



> Thanks to [tsukiori](http://tsukiori.livejournal.com/) for betaing this!
> 
> This is based on the fanfic "Impaired" by Gaia Faye. It is a 'what-if', specifically exploring what might have happened if Walter was not interrupted in Chapter 24 when he tried to force Henry.
> 
> You will need to have read "Impaired" for this fic to make any sense (and I strongly encourage people to read it anyway, as it is the best Silent Hill 4 fic in my opinion, especially for Walter/Henry fans).  
> You may need to reread Chapter 24 to realise where exactly this fanfic diverges from the original fanfic.
> 
> The first two paragraphs are quotes from Chapter 24.

> He didn't know what to do when Walter kissed him. He was motionless. He felt nothing. But Walter released his right wrist and held the side of Henry's face, holding him still, and Henry felt Walter's tongue slip past his lips. Henry's stomach twisted and his free hand shoved at Walter's chest. But he was too strong. Henry ground his teeth together, refusing. Walter's grip on his face tightened, fingers pressing into his jaw, just like that first day, when he made Henry drink. So long ago when Walter first declared his love, the same day he took the knife and jammed it through Henry's palm.
> 
> Walter's hips pushed up against Henry's, and through the layers of clothing Henry felt a hardness pressing into his groin. He wanted to scream but all that escaped beneath Walter's mouth was a frantic whine. Locks of greasy hair brushed against Henry's face as Walter's stubble scraped at the skin around his mouth. And all he could smell in the darkness was blood.
> 
> [ _Chapter 24, "Impaired" by Gaia Faye_ ](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2438465/29/Impaired)

There was a sudden sharp pain in his wrist as Walter dug his nails in and a cry of shock left him.. He had been shoving his left hand against Walter's chest but he faltered from the pain, and Walter pressed forward even more, trapping his hand against his chest.

Walter's nails broke the skin, and the muscles in Henry's hand spasmed in pain, releasing the knife and letting it fall to the ground. The hand holding Henry's face released its grip, and stroked down his neck in an imperfect parody of affection. Walter moaned into Henry's mouth, still kissing him and his breath escaped from his nostrils, warming his skin. 

His body was tingling from the contact, the warm, heavy body pressed against him. It was a strange mixture of thrill and revulsion. He'd never been attracted to guys, it had always been women. But how long had it been since he'd touched a woman? Not for years. During the whole nightmare before, when he was trying to save Eileen, he had felt a connection with her that made him hope they might have something if they managed to survive. But he had failed her then, and he had failed her now. How had he even dared to think he'd had a chance with her? He failed because he was weak, and this was his punishment.

Panic built up in him, until it felt like a physical thing sitting under his throat. A choked sob burst out from his throat and he twisted his body violently. He managed to dislodge Walter from his mouth and he inhaled like he had been drowning, his breaths sharp and shallow. He was echoed by Walter's shaky breaths, hot against his face.

"Mother gave you to me. My Chosen."

And then the hot breath was gone suddenly and the hand gripping his wrist pulled him forward, leading him somewhere.

"Don't you fucking-!" Henry yelled, lashing out and hitting Walter's back, too terrified to form his words properly.

His face exploded in pain the next second. Walter had punched him. He gasped and his free hand came over his nose, his feet tripping slightly. He didn't think it was broken but when blood smeared over his hand he realised his lip had split. He felt blood dripping from his nose. Walter yanked him forwards violently and as he stumbled he was shoved in the back.

He flew forward and hit something – the bed; sprawling over it. His heart was hammering in his throat. Walter had brought him to the bedroom… 

He tried to push himself up, and felt the bed shift from another weight. But before he could react he was pushed over onto his back, and Walter was straddling him. Henry screamed and lashed out with his hands; his nails caught on the face above him but his hands were quickly caught and pinned to the bed.

Henry was screaming, he barely recognised his own voice, and he struggled against the restraining grip, kicking his legs uselessly against the bed. Walter was yelling at him but the words were lost in his panic.

Eventually his struggles died down, and he lay there shuddering and gasping. Tears were running down his face. Walter was talking, shushing him and speaking in a low, reassuring tone. His hands were holding Henry's wrists firmly, stroking the skin.

"Ssshhh, sshhh … Henry – my beautiful Receiver … You don't understand … but Mother will help you see, she'll save you … I'll save you…"

He wiped the tears and blood from Henry's face, his touch tender and soft. Henry opened his mouth and choked out;

"Walter, please-" 

Henry was sobbing now as he pleaded with Walter, but Walter shushed him, kissing him on the forehead and cheeks. He wanted to cry out for someone to help him, but he knew there was no one in this place who would. Everyone here wanted him to … reciprocate. He wouldn't be surprised if that bitch Miranda held him down while Walter- 

He stopped his thoughts before he could get any further, his stomach turning. He made another attempt to escape Walter's hold, but Walter merely gripped him tighter, waiting for his weak thrashings to cease.

No one was coming to save him. He hadn't saved Eileen and no one would save him from this nightmare. There was no point in fighting anymore, he'd been fighting the whole time since he woke up back here and it hadn't done anything, he hadn't changed anyone's mind, hadn't even been able to stop Her from speaking through him. His fate had been sealed the moment Walter ripped out his eyes. This was his punishment for failing all those times, for living such a pathetic, worthless life.

"Don't cry, Henry … I'm here … I'll look after, I'll save you … I love you…"

And Walter kissed him again, softly. Henry didn't know what he was feeling. It was like he was separate from his body, watching everything happen to another person. Walter's mouth moved against his own and he passively let it happen. When he felt a tongue push against his lips, he opened his mouth slightly and let it in. 

Walter's manner changed when he felt Henry respond. He kissed back more forcefully, his mouth moving and sucking hungrily. His grip on Henry's wrists loosened and he shifted his body, his crotch sliding down until it was pressed against Henry's own.

The contact shocked Henry and he shuddered, feeling nauseous, but didn't move. What was the point?

Walter broke off the kiss and nudged Henry's head to the side, kissing and sucking his neck. His hand moved down Henry's chest, stopping at his waist before slithering under his shirt. He murmured words into Henry's skin as he did so.

"Oh, Henry … you're so perfect … you're so beautiful … I love you … I love you I love you-"

Henry's sobs had died down, but his body still shuddered and jerked occasionally, as if trying to throw off the alien weight. The hand underneath his shirt started to tug on his shirt. Walter's other hand came down and pushed the material upwards; Henry realised he was trying to take his shirt off. The numbness in his body was spreading, infecting his brain with fuzzy static. 

He felt Walter lift him up to a sitting position and pull the shirt off over his head. Pins and needles danced over his skin where the cotton shirt brushed against him. His face was pressed against Walter's chest in an intimate gesture ruined by the strong metallic scent of blood from the other man's coat. 

He wanted to say something, to try to explain …that he didn't want this, that he wasn't attracted to men; but he knew there was no way to argue with Walter, to convince him of something. Mother had ordained it, and he would obey everything she asked. If Mother told him to love someone, he would love them. If She told him to take someone, he would.

Henry realised he had been laid back down on the bed and Walter's hands were everywhere, growing more and more urgent.

He felt nauseous, his stomach flip-flopping, and he pushed at the body on top of him, gaining a few centimetres of space between them. Walter paused in his caresses, his breath hot against Henry's face, staring at him. For a moment, no one moved; Walter's body was still pressed up against Henry, trapping him.

"Walter," Henry said, almost whispering, trying to keep his voice calm. "Stop this. If you really love me, you wouldn't force me. And I'm saying no, okay? I don't want this."

There was a terrifying pause before Walter answered.

"No. No, Mother wants me to do this. You need to accept my love. She will save you."

Henry was absolutely still, he felt icy cold, like someone had dumped water over him. He moved, trying to push Walter off him, but he already knew it was futile. He couldn't stop Walter. But he could at least make it damn difficult for him.

He lashed out and his left arm was seized quickly and pulled upwards sharply. He yelped and punched, hit and scratched Walter as much as he could with his right hand. His left arm was being tied with something fabric – his shirt, he realised – and in a matter of seconds Walter had tied his arm to the bed frame so tightly it hurt.

Walter grabbed his flailing right arm quickly and pinned it to the bed. There was a brief pause where all Henry could hear was the harsh breathing from both of them.

"You son of a bi-" he hissed and he was suddenly backhanded across the face, words momentarily leaving him in the pain.

"Don't talk about Mother like that."

"You fucker! I'll never forgive you for this! You can forget about sitting in the room watching me like the creep you are, because next time I'll fucking kill you!"

Walter was holding Henry's right hand with one hand while he grunted and did something else with his other hand. Henry tried to take advantage of Walter's distraction, and eventually his struggles got an annoyed reaction from Walter, who pinned his arm down with both hands before shifting his body backwards and bringing his left boot down, pressing into the soft skin of Henry's forearm. Henry winced.

Walter's boot was caked in mud or blood, and maybe other things Henry didn't want to think about. Walter was moving above him, he heard clothes rustling, a zipper being undone, he realised Walter was undressing. A shot of adrenaline burst through him and he pulled his right arm out sharply, grazing his skin badly but ignoring it. He gripped the underside of Walter's boot and pushed back as hard as he could with one hand. Walter fell back with a grunt and Henry kicked him, feeling gleeful satisfaction when he heard Walter fall off the end of the bed. He immediately started trying to free his left arm, but he was clumsy doing it with just one hand; he couldn't see the knot or feel how it was tied together properly. 

His hand was ripping away abruptly. Walter had come back. His right arm was being tied tightly with some kind of fabric, cotton, probably Walter's T-shirt. Henry kicked at every available surface of the man leaning over him, but Walter simply ignored him. In several seconds both his arms were tied to the head of the bed. Henry pulled at his restraints, feeling horribly vulnerable.

And then Walter was pulling at the pajama pants and even though Henry was struggling, kicking and twisting his body, all that seemed to do was help Walter pull them off quicker. All Henry was wearing now were the plain briefs he'd been given. He kicked out, terrified the Walter was going to take them off too, but his kicks just met empty air. His body tensed and he pushed himself up into a sitting position, as far against the metal frame as he could get, his knees right against his chest.

"Henry."

Walter's voice was soft and Henry felt sick at the amount of feeling in just that one word.

"Don't-!" He yelled. "Don't come any closer!"

"Henry. I don't want to tie your legs up as well. I want you to enjoy this. If you struggle I can't be gentle with you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?"

Henry shook his head without even thinking about it. He realised his whole body was shaking. He couldn't control it. There was gentle touch on his shoulder and he flinched but didn't move. He felt sick. There was some kind of ringing sound echoing in his ears and a disassociated feeling creeping up inside him.

"Please don't," he heard himself say, pathetically.

There was no answer but arms enveloping him. Walter stayed sitting there for a while, holding Henry tight until he stopped shaking. His arms were starting to hurt in this position and when his body relaxed slightly, Walter manoeuvred him into a prone position, firmly but carefully, and then straddled him. Henry felt ridiculously relieved that Walter was still wearing his boxers, although the naked skin contact elsewhere was incredibly uncomfortable. He felt the other man's lips kiss him on the neck, sucking and licking at him, and he turned his head to the side, biting his lips. He felt terrified and sick, but there was nothing he could do. The only thing he could do was endure it.

Walter was pressing kisses all over his body, slowly moving downwards. He could hear the other man breathing deeply, like he was drinking in the smell of Henry, brushing his face and hair on Henry's skin. It was as if Walter was trying to memorise Henry's body, or reverently worshipping a God. Henry shifted uncomfortably. He wished he could turn off his sense of touch and be able to pretend nothing was happening.

When Walter reached the top of Henry's underwear he paused and moved upwards again. His bare chest brushed against Henry's and Henry gritted his teeth, trying to push his face into the mattress. Hands cradled his face and forced him to face the body above. He could feel Walter staring at him.

And that was when it happened. There was a flash of white light and suddenly he could see. Walter's face hovered above him, staring at him with an intense look of – Henry realised in sick despair – adoration, his pupils dilated with desire. Unlike the other times, the vision didn't go away. Henry moaned and tried to turn his head away, but Walter's hold didn't budge. He couldn't shut his eyes, couldn't look away.

"No, no, no, no no…" 

"Henry? What is it?" Walter looked concerned now and more than ever Henry wanted the vision gone.

He kicked his legs and started struggling even harder to break Walter's grip. The other man let go before he could hurt himself but gripped his abdomen with his legs, his arms on Henry's chest to stop his wild thrashing. 

Henry stopped struggling when he could turn his head away, slightly relaxing when he didn't have to look into that stare. Walter said nothing but touched his face again. Henry flinched and said, in a low, even voice that steadily grew hysterical:

"Stop it. Stop looking at me like that! I don't want to see, I don't want to look at your face. _Stop looking at me!_ "

Walter was silent for a moment, absorbing Henry's words. When he spoke, it was in an awe-filled, wondrous tone.

"You can see? Henry, don't you understand?" He grabbed Henry's face again and forced him to look at him. "This is a gift. Mother gave you vision so that you could fully enjoy this."

And he leaned in and kissed Henry, who struggled weakly but soon stopped, lying there passively.

He felt broken inside. He could feel everything; Walter's erection pressed against his stomach, his greasy hair brushing his face. He could see everything; when Walter stared at him, his dizzyingly close face while he kissed Henry. And he could hear Walter moaning and gasping, the sound of the bed creaking.

Walter broke off the kiss, his lips red and open slightly, his eyes cloudy with lust.

"I want to show you how much I love you, Henry." 

And he moved down Henry's body. He tugged down the briefs Henry was wearing, until he could pull them off his legs entirely. Henry lay still, his face turned away but he could feel a lump building in his throat, as he focused all his energy on not letting out a sob.

When Walter first tried to touch him he automatically flinched, trying to draw his legs up. Walter grabbed them and knelt on his shins to stop him moving. Henry was only semi-hard but he felt ashamed that Walter's attentions before had had an effect. He felt horribly exposed.

A desperate moan made it past his clenched teeth, " _Oh God_ , please, _no_."

Walter's first touches were tentative and light. It was not clear whether this he'd done this before or not. At first the feeling of Walter's hands was merely cold and uncomfortable. But when his cock was grasped firmly in Walter's hand, a dull sense of pleasure started to bloom. Walter started to move his hand up and down; the other crept down and touched his balls.

Henry clenched his teeth and pushed his face into the soft under-skin of his tied-up right arm. He found that at the right angle he could blind his right eye completely, with a close-up view of his arm and the bed sheets being all he could see from the left eye. It wasn't much but it was reminiscent of when he was blind, something he wished for now. He put his mind to the task of thinking about repellent things to keep his arousal down. _Jasper's skin cracking and peeling from the flames. The stench of burning meat. His screams. The fanatical insanity in his eyes when carving the numbers in his own chest._

Walter's hand was settling into a rhythm, and Henry's thighs were tense from the effort of not moving. He was determined not to give Walter any positive signals. However, the friction was starting to have an effect on him now, his cock almost completely hard despite his best efforts to keep his arousal down.

And then something soft and wet touched him, at the tip of his cock. It was gone almost a second later, as if the owner was shy, before appearing again and travelling all the way down the length. Henry jolted in surprise, unable to keep his hips from jerking upwards. Walter's tongue circled the base slowly before tonguing his balls.

_The soft, slithering sound of something dragged itself across the floor … Cynthia's long, black hair creeping in front of her, ever-searching ... her pale, bloody skin … her beautiful face distorted by hatred._

His cock was suddenly enveloped in a warm mouth, cutting off Henry's thoughts. A strangled gasp left his lips and his whole body bucked. Walter moved his mouth up slowly, his tongue twisting around Henry's erection. Henry clenched his fists and tried to not to react but he couldn't stop his body trembling and his uneven, shallow breaths. He couldn't concentrate on his thoughts from before; couldn't cut out the unwilling pleasure he was feeling. 

"Henry," Walter pulled away for a second to speak. "Don't fight me."

And then his tongue flicked at Henry's slit before he took the whole length into his mouth again, sucking gently. 

Henry's mind was slowly being overtaken by the pleasure he was feeling. It was sick and wrong, this was _Walter_ , he shouldn't let him do this to him … but he couldn't think properly. Surely it wouldn't be so bad just to give in? It was happening anyway, and it'd been so long since he'd done anything like this with another person. Would it really matter if he used this opportunity?

An unwilling whimper escaped him and his hips thrust up into that warm, fuckable mouth. He groaned at how good it felt, a dizzy spell overtaking him, the soft suction pulling the pleasure up from inside him. _Fuck_ , it felt so good. He didn't want it to end. He wished his hands were free so he could grab the head of the person sucking him and fuck their face. 

He was close now, his toes curling and his hips jerking desperately. A hand cupped his balls suddenly, rolling them, and his control broke. His whole body thrust upwards, muscles taut, and a sob escaped his clenched teeth as he fell over the edge and came, spurting into the damp warmth.

The warm mouth never left, and Henry held that position for a few beats before collapsing back onto the bed, sweating and breathing deeply. His head felt like it was floating in the clouds, and an incredible feeling of satisfaction was settling over him. He lay looking up at the ceiling, content to just coast on the afterglow. 

It was when he felt a light touch on his hip that he came back down to earth. Oh god. Had he really…? With Walter?

There was the soft pressure of hands on his body, and he looked down instinctively. Walter moved up his body and caught him in a gentle kiss. Henry baulked, remembering where that mouth had been just a second ago, but he was trapped anyway and his mind in too much turmoil to resist.

Henry had come. Walter was doing all this without his consent, and Henry had given in … _enjoyed it_. Fuck, he was still feeling the afterglow now. And at the end he'd been thrusting and moaning, like-like a _whore_. He felt sickened by himself, a cold sheet of shame falling over him.

There was a groan from Walter, and Henry's concentration snapped back to the present. Walter was still kissing him, deeply, and he broke it off a second later, gasping and resting his forehead against Henry's. He shifted and Henry winced as Walter's clothed erection came into contact with his still-sensitive cock.

Walter collapsed, letting his head fall on to Henry's chest, and nuzzled him with a sigh of satisfaction.

"You look so … wanton, so beautiful when you come," groaned Walter, rubbing his face on Henry's skin and caressing his body. "I did that to you. You enjoyed it. I knew you loved me."

"You-you bastard! I didn't-you _forced_ me," he said, flushing with anger. Sour hatred rose up in him, most of it aimed at himself.

"Don't lie, Henry."

"That-that was just a physical reaction! It's-it's normal, it doesn't mean-"

Henry's voice broke off when Walter grasped his cock hard, almost painfully. His chest convulsed once with the beginnings of a sob. It was useless. He'd lain there and done nothing to stop Walter. He hadn't even been able to stop himself from coming. Maybe he had wanted it after all.

Walter moved off him and reached for his own boxers. Henry turned his head away when he realised Walter was going to take them off. His chest was shaking now with the stress of holding back his sobs and his lower lip was raw from biting it. In a way, it was almost a relief when Walter touched him. He let out a cry and started to sob, shamefully loud. Walter shushed him and straddled him, their cocks coming into contact. Walter cradled Henry's face and wiped away his tears, kissing him gently, shushing him and whispering calming nothings.

And all the while Walter's hips were grinding into him, his hard cock sliding across Henry's stomach, leaving a slimy trail of pre-come. Henry lay there, trying to look at the ceiling but his gaze was constantly being redirected by Walter kissing him and grabbing him by the chin, forcing him to look at him. It was nauseating and all Henry could think about was that it was _his_ body that was bringing pleasure to the other man, _his_ body that was the cause of the growing pleasure he could see in Walter's eyes.

The constant, slow grind was starting to affect Henry now, the prickling sensation of arousal starting to spread throughout his lower body. Shame flushed through him when he realised he could still be turned on by this, even just after Walter and his mouth had degraded him more than he had thought possible. 

"W-Walter," he gasped, his voice cracking with tears.

Walter kissed him deeply in response, their bodies flush against each other, and Henry felt completely surrounded, possessed, by the other man. Walter's body was heavy on top of him, arms on either side closing him away from the world and his mouth sealing them together, licking inside of Henry.

He whimpered.

Walter pulled away, puffing hot breaths on Henry's face, his face flushed and a brightness in his eyes. He brought his fingers up to Henry's mouth and Henry, passive, let them in, sucking them when Walter told him to. It didn't dawn on him until several seconds later why Walter might want his fingers wet. He panicked and jerked his mouth away, pushing his face into the pillow, body tensing and pleas falling from his lips, though he barely knew what he was saying.

"-Oh God, Walter, please, don't make me do this, don't – I can't, I can't, _please_ -"

"Sssh, sshh, my beautiful Receiver…"

"-I've never – you can't, Walter don't hurt me, don't do this-"

He was being hugged, arms circling around his back and a face pressed into his neck, kissing him there. He could barely see through the grey panic seeping into his vision but he realised Walter was still talking, his voice sounding emotionally vulnerable in a way Henry had never heard.

"I won't, Henry don't cry. If you don't want me to I won't, okay? Just don't cry."

The words penetrated Henry's terror and he slowly began to relax, taking panting, shaky breaths. Walter continued kissing his neck, mumbling into his skin.

"Don't be scared. We don't have to – I won't make you."

Walter pulled away and briefly pressed his lips to Henry's with a smack, something that struck Henry as oddly affectionate. He didn't dwell on it though, not really caring after what he had narrowly escaped. _Jesus_. Henry didn't know why Walter suddenly didn't want to hurt him now but he was so, _so_ thankful that Walter's desire to dominate him apparently didn't extend to forcing his dick up his ass when Henry didn't want it.

"I won't hurt you," said Walter forcefully. "I would _never_ hurt you. I _love_ you." 

The childish intensity in his voice made Henry laugh humourlessly under his breath "Walter, you don't know what love is," he said quietly.

There was no response from Walter except bringing his palm up to Henry's mouth, obviously wanting Henry to lick it. Henry did this; he knew what Walter wanted it for, having regularly done it himself before, and maybe he would have protested otherwise but he was so relieved it wasn't fingers he just didn't care. This whole nightmare felt like it had been going on for an eternity and if satisfying Walter would end it then he would do it.

His suspicion was confirmed when Walter lowered his hand between them and grasped both their dicks in his wet palm, making Henry jolt. Walter's hips bucked, sliding his cock through the tight circle of his hand, brushing against Henry's cock in obscene intimacy. Henry stared up at Walter, watching him take in slow, controlled breaths, his shoulders rising and falling as he rocked forwards, his face slowly filling with growing pleasure and wonder. Henry's mouth twisted in unhappiness and he could feel prickling in his tear ducts, but it didn't stop his body from convulsing at the delicious friction, hips writhing upwards in search of that ecstasy.

Walter kept up a steady rhythm, pumping his cock through his fist. His thighs gripped Henry's body tightly and he was propped up on one elbow, his gaze switching between watching the expression on Henry's face and looking down between their bodies. Henry didn't look down, it was enough that he had to stare at Walter while it was happening, that he could feel _everything_ ; Walter's rough hand gripping his dick, Walter's cock sliding against his and the other man's balls pressing down and slapping against his own.

It should have been disgusting, having this psycho pressed against him in such sordid intimacy, and it was, but that didn't stop Henry's body from reacting like it was the best thing ever. Henry tried to make excuses for himself: it had been so long since he'd been intimate with anyone, almost two years of nothing more than his hand and online porn, so it was normal that his body was reacting like this. It was just the touch of another human being, that was all. 

But it was getting harder and harder to justify it to himself, and all the while self-hatred continued to build up inside. How _could_ he lie there and allow himself to feel pleasure from it when this psycho had killed so many, including himself? How could he get off on the feel of the murderer's cock sliding against his own? It was sick, _he_ was sick.

He felt curiously disconnected from what was happening to his body. He watched himself from above, writhing underneath the man who had murdered him and so many others, whines and whimpers of pleasure falling from his lips and he threw insults at himself in disgust. _Slut. Whore. Shameless. You couldn't stop Walter or the cult so you thought you'd give him your body instead? This is all you're good for. You should just let him fuck you, after all, you've given up everything else, you've already let him suck you and make you come._

Walter was getting close now, his hips juddering out of rhythm, whimpers escaping his tightly closed lips. His hand tightened around his and Henry's members and he jacked them both furiously. He ground his pelvis down hard and groaned as he came, come shooting out onto Henry's stomach. He collapsed on top of him, trapping Henry's still hard cock between them, still held in Walter's lax hand.

Henry whimpered. He was maddeningly close to the edge and his cock was trapped underneath Walter's heavy body. He couldn't – he shouldn't – now that Walter was done he should just lie there and wait until the other man moved away, but the pressure of the body above him was too much to bear. He jerked his hips upwards tentatively, biting his lip at the spark of pleasure. He jerked again but was unable to get a good angle. He squirmed in frustration and then, finally giving up on any pretence, hooked his legs around Walter's hips, squeezing their bodies together and thrust frantically, driving his cock through Walter's soft fist. 

It was pure ecstasy and it only took a few thrusts before he came, cock spurting and adding to the slickness between them. He fucked through his orgasm, hips grinding shakily as sparks shot off in his mind. He came to a shuddering stop a few seconds later and let his legs fall down apart on the bed, bathed in sweat.

Henry lay there, breathing harshly like he'd just run a race. He could feel his body start to shake subtly, shock creeping into him. He wanted to be appalled and disgusted at himself but it was like he'd used up his daily allowance, and all he could think was that it had been inevitable. He was blind, useless to help Eileen or anyone, his only purpose here was as a reward to Walter. He couldn't really be surprised that in the end he'd given in and spread his legs for the other man.

Walter shifted above him, the mess between them squelching obscenely, making Henry feel vaguely nauseous. Walter propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Henry, who stared back, noticing with some surprise that his vision was still whole, with no sign of it disappearing yet. There was a soft smile on Walter's face as he gazed at Henry for a few seconds before getting up into a kneeling position, leaning over to untie Henry's hands from the bed rails.

As soon as his hands were released Henry scooted up the bed, leaning back against the head of the bed in a sitting position. He let his gaze focus on his lap, on his hands nervously circled and rubbing at his sore wrists. As he watched he could see the redness fade and feel the sting disappear as She healed him. He realised his lips and nose where Walter had punched him didn't hurt either, and though he hadn't noticed, She must have healed him then as well. 

A hand cradled his face and Henry looked up to see Walter lean over and kiss him softly. Henry didn't do anything, just stared and passively let it happen.

"That was – that was beautiful," Walter said breathlessly, breaking their kiss and resting his forehead against Henry's, staring at the soft blindfold covering where his eyes used to be. "You're beautiful Henry." 

Henry didn't say a word.

"You see now, why I did it? You understand now, I can see." 

"Yes," said Henry quietly.

"Only you could have brought me so much pleasure … My chosen-"

There was a sudden sharp flurry of knocks at the door and Henry jumped. Walter frowned and turned his head in the direction of the sound. After a few seconds he got up from the bed and grabbed his clothes. He glanced distastefully at the mess of his and Henry's come on his stomach but just pulled his shirt and pants on when another more urgent knock came.

He padded out of the bedroom and Henry watched him go, still sitting motionlessly. He heard the door open and Miranda's voice.

"Oh! I see you've been busy with the Receiver," she said, a smirk in her voice.

Walter sounded distracted when he answered. "No – no we're … finished now. What did you need, Mother Miranda?"

"The bodies of two of our brothers from Valtiel's sect have been found in the woods. I need you to find the intruder and take care of them."

"Of course. Let me just say goodbye to Henry."

Henry heard footsteps moving to the bedroom and he looked up to see Walter enter. His face looked relaxed and a faint, affectionate smile curved the corner of his lips.

"Henry, I need to leave for a while," said Walter, kneeling on the bed and smoothing Henry's hair away from his face. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

He pressed a kiss to Henry's forehead and whispered, "I love you."

Henry jerked his head in a nod automatically and Walter pulled away, going to fetch his shoes. Henry stared blankly ahead until he heard the click of the door closing as the other man left the room.

Silence fell heavily throughout the apartment. Henry leaned forward, bent across his knees and gripped his hair, pulling at it hard enough to send pinpricks of pain across his scalp. His mind was frighteningly blank.

After a minute he brought his head up, gazing over the crumpled bed sheets and scattered clothes. He was slightly surprised he could still see. Well, perhaps he should take advantage of the vision while he still had it.

He crawled out of the bed and gathered his clothes. He cleaned himself up before getting dressed; grabbing his glass of water from the desk and using a sock to sponge off his front. A more thorough cleaning would have to wait until he could be taken to the shower.

He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He held himself perfectly still and let his gaze drift across the room. The bookcase with his modest collection of books caught his attention and he realised that he could read if he wanted to or look through his photography books. It seemed God really did reward those who pleased Her. And all he'd had to do … all he'd done …

Nausea suddenly overwhelmed him and he bolted for the sink, barely managing to get there before he started puking, nothing but sour bile coming up and burning his throat. He clung to the cabinet and began to sob.

\---

The God-granted vision lasted as long as two hours. After the initial rush of activity of exploring the apartment and testing the locked door, Henry collapsed on the couch and curled up there, losing himself in his mind.

Miranda had suggested that She might give him his eyes back if he cooperated and let Walter have what he wanted, and that seemed to be basically what had happened. _She_ hadn't cared that Henry hadn't been willing, only that Walter had enjoyed it.

If he could take advantage of this, if he could have his sight for tomorrow, he might have a chance of stopping the ritual.

Henry curled up even tighter, fighting nausea at the thought of what he was planning to do. But he had to do it if he wanted even the slightest chance to save Eileen. 

He stayed on the couch until his vision faded, leaving him in the dark once more.

At around midday, when the sun coming in from the living windows started feeling warm, there was a knock on the door and the sound of someone coming in.

Henry sat up, alert, afraid it was Walter back already, but it was just one of the cultists, come to escort him to the shower room. Henry followed him without protest; outwardly calm but inwardly tying himself in knots with anxiety.

It was only when Henry was at the bathroom door that he managed to screw up the courage and ask through gritted teeth and a red face for some supplies, specifically condoms and lube. It had to have been one of the most embarrassing experiences of Henry's life but thankfully the other man hadn't reacted much except with mild surprise and congratulations that Henry was finding his place in the order.

He was handed a basket of supplies when he got out of the shower, and Henry's cheeks burned hot when the guard insisted on explaining what each item was.

His fragile resolve broke for a moment when he returned to the apartment and was alone. He placed the basket on the kitchen counter and slowly sank down to the floor, biting his fist. He could do this, he had to; it was for _Eileen_.

Lunch was brought in late, almost as an after-thought. The Order seemed a little pre-occupied with preparing for the ritual tomorrow, and Henry was obviously not their priority anymore. His purpose had already been filled. He picked at his food but couldn't force down more than a few mouthfuls, the pasta salad turning into tasteless pulp in his mouth. In the end he hid it away in a cupboard where its smell couldn't reach him and turn his stomach.

Walter came back late evening.

"Henry," said Walter softly from the doorway.

Henry made himself sit up and put on the most loving smile he could manage. "Walter," he said back and he cringed inside at how they sounded like soppy lovers doing some kind of 'Honey, I'm home!' routine.

There was the rush of footsteps and rustling of clothes before Henry suddenly found himself pulled off the sofa and into a crushing embrace. His arms hung awkwardly by his side for a few seconds before he regained his senses and brought them around the taller man. Walter nuzzled his face in Henry's hair and breathed in, before saying, "You smell nice."

"I – it's the shampoo. I had a shower," Henry said dumbly.

Walter hummed and pressed a kiss to Henry's neck before pulling out of the embrace, though he placed his hands lightly on Henry's hips and stayed close enough that Henry could feel his breath against his face.

He tried on another weak smile. It was all kinds of awkward just standing there with Walter presumably staring at him, but he didn't know how he was meant to … _progress_ this. Should he try talking? Or flirting? Had it really been that long since his last girlfriend that he didn't know what to do in this situation? 

Finally, out of desperation, he just lunged forward in an attempt to kiss Walter. Their teeth clacked together and his nose bumped into Walter's, but he was able to segue that into a more normal kiss after smashing their faces together gave him some of an idea where Walter's mouth was.

Walter gave a muffled cry of surprise but responded enthusiastically. Henry made himself open his mouth. He felt Walter's tongue slip inside and hesitantly he touched it with his own tongue. It was fine. He could deal with this. It was only physical and _he_ was the one in control. _He_ was the one taking advantage of Walter.

Then he felt Walter's hand slide down to cup his ass and squeeze firmly. Henry gave a squeak of shock and pulled away.

"Henry?" Walter sounded slightly concerned.

"Nothing, I – why don't we take this to the bedroom?" Henry said hurriedly, trying to distract.

Walter huffed out a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh and pressed his forehead against Henry's. "But I brought dinner," he said, and Henry could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm not hungry," said Henry, and he pressed a kiss against Walter's lips, and another one, trying to convey his urgency. He _did not_ want Walter mooning over him at dinner like they were on a date. The sooner he could get this over with the better.

"Mmm," moaned Walter between kisses, his lips curving into a smile. "You're so eager." 

Henry copied him, moaning back and kissing more forcefully. "Yes, yes, I want you, _please_ ," he made himself say.

Walter pulled away from Henry with obvious reluctance, giving several lingering kisses before detaching himself fully. He caressed down Henry's shoulders, capturing his hand and giving it a squeeze before starting to lead him out of the room. Henry let himself be tugged along before suddenly remembering the basket he had been given earlier. He pulled out of Walter's grip before he could think not to.

"Wait, I-I need-" Henry stuttered and flailed his arms in the direction of the kitchen, trying to find the counter. He stepped forward and his hand whacked the side of it. He reached out and found the basket quickly, picking it up with the other hand and cradling the injured hand to his chest.

Walter didn't seem angry that Henry had pulled away from him, only mildly curious. He took the basket with a mild "Let me see". Henry stood there silently holding his breath while listening to the clinks and rustling of Walter pawing through the contents. 

"Henry, you got this for us?"

"Yes," Henry said stiffly, and then added, "I wanted to do it properly, to make it special… I just want to make you happy."

It was pretty soppy but Walter seemed to buy it, kissing Henry and whispering, "You _do_ make me happy," before leading him to the bedroom.

Once they were there Henry tugged Walter's hand, turning him around and started kissing him. He shuffled them forwards until they hit the bed and he could pull them both down to sit on it. Henry kept his hands in the relatively safe position resting on Walter's hips and concentrated on seeming as 'into' this as possible, drawing on memories of his first girlfriend in high school. 

He pulled away finally and asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to touch me," Walter answered immediately, sounding out of breath. "I want you to kiss me and-and lick me and … I want you to suck me off."

Henry paused before answering. "Okay. I can do that."

It wasn't an incredibly sexy response but it was all Henry could manage at the moment. He started to pull off Walter's clothes, kissing and sucking any skin he exposed. Walter lay back, his hands fluttering over Henry's head as he felt his way down Walter's body. 

Henry tried to do what he'd always enjoyed having done to himself, paying attention to the collarbones, sucking hickeys on the neck, navigating by touch and smell. And that was when he noticed that there was a pleasant clean smell of soap from Walter's skin. Had Walter showered before? Why would he – had he done that for Henry? It was weird, like Walter was treating this like a date, trying to impress Henry. The whole idea disturbed Henry, and he pushed it out of his mind, unwilling to examine it any further.

Henry brushed against Walter's erection through his trousers and drew down the zipper. He gently slid his hand into Walter's boxers and wrapped his hand around the full, heavy cock, bringing it out.

And then his vision snapped in, the brightness momentarily overwhelming him before his field of vision was taken up by a very close-up view of Walter's cock. 

He almost recoiled but was able to repress his reaction to just a tightening of his hand on Walter's thigh. Fuck. This was … more than he'd ever wanted to see of Walter.

He realised he had been frozen for the last few seconds and moved his hand, brushing his thumb over the head of the cock, staring with equal disgust and fascination as it twitched and released a droplet of pre-come. There was a hiss from Walter, making Henry glance up at him. Walter was holding himself still, shaking from the anticipation, his eyes locked on Henry's. As Henry watched he stroked his hand over Henry's hair before gripping it and pushing his head down, guiding it to his cock. Henry let him.

_I have to make him happy. This is going to save Eileen._

He kept repeating this to himself as Walter's cock pressed against his lips, before pushing in fully until his mouth was resting against his fingers wrapping around the base. For a moment he paused, getting used to the feel of another man's dick in his mouth. He licked around the length and cringed when he tasted the slight saltiness, so different from the taste of women he'd been with. 

Walter whimpered and clutched Henry's hair tighter. Henry glanced up, taking note of Walter's state, and then applied himself to giving the other man a blowjob, using everything he could remember from his own experiences of being on the receiving end. 

It wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be: keep his hand tight around the base, apply suction, lick, bob his head, don't gag. It was almost pathetic how much it affected Walter. The man probably didn't get much action, being so devoted to his cause, and he bet that even in college people would be reluctant to approach someone as creepy as Walter. Maybe this was even Walter's first blowjob.

As Walter fell apart under him Henry felt vindicated by the fact that his own cock was still completely flaccid. He wasn't turned on by the other man. The whole experience was like some kind of experiment: apply and observe response. If he kept his thinking on that track, mentally detaching himself enough from what he was doing, then he could cope with this.

Walter was making more noise now, Henry guessed he was close, and he was just readying himself to finish him off when the hand clutching his hair tugged, dislodging his mouth.

"Stop, stop," Walter gasped. "I don't want to finish it like this."

Henry stared at him in dread, realisation trickling through his body of what Walter probably intended to do next.

"Can I fuck you?" Henry blurted out.

The words seemed to ring out in the following silence. Henry's soul shrivelled inside in horror. He stayed frozen at the awful precipice, thinking he should snatch the words back but not wanting to. If Walter wanted to do it the other way around … God, he couldn't.

"You want to?" came the soft reply.

Henry's breath caught in shock. He searched Walter's expression for any hints that this was a test, that there was some way he should respond.

There was nothing.

"Y-yes..."

A smile slowly broke on Walter's face, tugging the corners of his lips up until his whole face was overtaken with it. It was like staring into the sun, full of warmth and _love_. Henry wanted to look away but it was like he was hypnotised. For the first time, he felt a glimmering of guilt.

Walter smoothed his hand through Henry's hair before gripping him by the shoulders and pulling him up until Henry was lying on top of him. He pulled Henry down into a kiss, one hand cradling his face, his thumb rubbing the numbers carved there. 

He broke away, saying, "Henry, yes. I want us to be together, I want you to show me how much you love me."

"I – yeah, of course, I-I love you, Walter."

"Say it again," moaned Walter, leaning up and biting Henry's lip.

"I love you," said Henry more forcefully and he found his hands involuntarily clenched around Walter's shoulders. 

Henry knew he should be more disgusted, but there was something – not arousal – but something intoxicating about having Walter so under his control. Professions of love could reduce the other man to this, squirming underneath him like he was powerless, so eager for affection from Henry.

Walter kissed him again and then pushed upright, pulling clothes off Henry, who placidly let him, retreating into his mind. When they were both naked Henry snapped back into awareness, feeling resignation settle over him, a far more reassuring feeling than the sadistic glee he had felt when Walter was on his back. He reached over to the bedside table, pulling over the basket to him. He searched through the various items, ignoring the kinky handcuffs, dildos and cock rings for the only things he would need – lube and condoms. Walter sat silent beside him, gazing at Henry, apparently fine with letting Henry take charge.

"Have you ever done this before?" Henry asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Not with a man. Have you?"

Henry flushed."I, no, I'm not – I've only had girlfriends."

Walter seemed to find Henry's embarrassment amusing, smiling at him, and then he glanced down to see what Henry had pulled out of the basket. "I don't want to use condoms. And Mother will not tolerate any barrier to taint the union of Her Son and the Receiver."

Henry started to protest and Walter interrupted him. "Besides, there is no need. Mother keeps us in perfect health."

It was obvious there was no arguing. Reluctantly, Henry put the condoms back, his hope extinguished of having some kind of barrier between them, some way to keep his distance during the act. He put away the basket and clutched the bottle of lube, his mouth dry.

"Um, y-you," he said, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth. "You should turn over … so I can-"

Walter protested again. Henry could have killed him.

"No, I want to see you."

Walter was frowning and Henry was aware that his reluctance was setting off alarm bells in the other man's mind, but he couldn't help himself from trying once more.

"It's – it's supposed to be easier in that position," he said weakly. 

"I don't care."

Henry gave up. He squeezed the lube over his shaking fingers and pushed Walter onto his back. He hadn't ever done this before but two years since his last girlfriend and internet porn meant he had some idea of the theory of it. He didn't know whether to be grateful or to curse his curiosity that he had actually researched gay sex.

He sat himself between Walter's legs and pushed them up and apart. His mouth was dry as dust as he brought his wet finger between Walter's cheeks and pushed in. It was only up to the first knuckle but the tight, dry heat of it made Henry's breath catch. There was a small sound and Henry looked up to see a frown creasing the skin between Walter's eyebrows.

He swallowed and said, "It might feel uncomfortable at first. Try to relax."

And now he was actually quoting from these guides he'd read on the internet.

He moved his finger, wiggling it to try and relax the tight muscle and then pulled it out, squeezing more gel on it before pushing in deeper. He couldn't break his gaze away from the sight of his finger disappearing inside Walter's body. He felt like he was in a trance; he couldn't believe this was really happening. 

It was almost completely silent, apart from the occasional breathy sound from Walter. Henry added another finger, coating it with lube and trying to push as much inside as possible. It felt … strange inside, hot and so tight, like Walter's body was trying to grip and pull his fingers in. He separated his fingers inside, scissoring them and heard Walter gasp in response. He decided to try another finger now.

It was when he had three fingers just inside, circling around to try to loosen the muscle, that Henry's breathing started to come faster. It felt like he couldn't get enough air in, panic puncturing the dreamlike bubble he was in. What the fuck was he doing? Did he really have his fingers inside Walter Sullivan, his own murderer?

His fingers spasmed involuntarily, crooking inside, drawing a moan from Walter, and Henry dropped forward, burying his face in Walter's stomach. _Oh fuck, oh fuck_. He couldn't believe that he was really fingering another man, getting ready to fuck him. He couldn't, he couldn't … he _had_ to do this.

He was freaking out, his breath panting onto Walter's skin. It didn't seem like Walter had noticed anything yet but he couldn't let him know. He had to make this as good as possible, make Walter happy so that he had a chance to stop this ritual. He needed to pull himself together.

He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Walter's stomach, tongue laving the skin, and kept his face pressed there. He couldn't see anything like this, operating only by touch, and to his relief, it seemed to make things a little easier. Yeah, it fucking sucked that he was going to fuck Walter, that this was going to be his first time in two years, but there was more at stake here than his feelings. 

He breathed a little slower, trying to relax. His fingers were still moving, thrusting in and out. He crept a hand down to wrap around his own cock and started pulling at it to get himself hard, thinking of Eileen, though he hated himself for it.

It wasn't long before he could tell from the loose, wet glide and Walter moaning his name that he'd done enough preparation. He inhaled once, deeply, and pulled away, drawing his fingers out.

Walter grabbed at him straight away when Henry pulled back, seeming frantic, like he was scared Henry was trying to leave him. Henry let himself be pulled down into a kiss, and stroked up and down Walter's body, trying to reassure him.

"Walter, wait, it's okay. Here, just – put your legs around me."

And then Walter was wrapped around him – Henry holding his cock slippery with lube, the head at Walter's hole – and Walter's legs squeezed him, pulling him forward, and … and he was in.

He let out a sob at the gorgeous tight heat around his cock, drawing him deeper within. He couldn't stop the inexorable motion forward until he was finally sheathed completely inside.

"Oh _god_ ," Henry choked out.

The pressure inside was unbelievable, Walter's body squeezing pleasure out of him. He felt like he could die.

He panted, trying to get himself under control and stared back at Walter, who looked just as debauched as he felt. Walter's face was lightly flushed, hair slick with sweat, chest rising and falling and his eyes wide with shock.

For the first time, Henry regretted doing it this way instead of the other way around. If he'd let Walter fuck him he wouldn't have had to actively do anything, just lie there and take it. It probably would have been painful but right now, Henry would have rather been in pain. At least then it would have been simpler to convince himself he didn't like it, that it was just something to endure … 

Slowly the pleasure, which had seemed unbearable before, eased off so he didn't feel like he was going to shoot off the second he moved. Henry realised he been still for a while, and he refocused on Walter, clearing his throat.

"Are you okay?" 

Walter nodded silently, and Henry frowned.

"I'm not hurting you, am I? It might take a while to adjust but-"

He was cut off when Walter bucked his hips, making Henry gasp.

"Henry," Walter gritted out. " _Move_."

Walter didn't seem like he was in any pain, so Henry gave an experimental thrust forward. Walter groaned, squeezing his eyes closed for a second and Henry pushed forward again, the sight of his cock disappearing inside Walter's body holding him in horrified captivation. He hooked his arms under Walter's knees and started moving.

Each slide in and out sent shudders of delicious pleasure through Henry and he clenched his teeth to keep from making any sounds. Walter didn't seem to have any compunctions about that, cries of "Henry!" and the occasional "Mother!" spilling from him.

Henry's hands were slipping from the sweat and he jerked Walter's body up higher. He knew he should be able to hit Walter's prostate, he'd seen diagrams of it, he just needed to get the right angle.

He was rewarded by a louder cry and the sudden pressure of Walter's body squeezing tightly around him. He jerked forwards, a curse leaving his lips and started pounding into Walter, trying to hit the same spot, again and again. Walter grabbed Henry's hand, entwining their fingers, his other hand reaching back to grab the head rail of the bed.

"Henry – Henry, I love you. Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Again." 

"I love you, I love you, I love you so much," he repeated, again and again, barely aware of what he was saying.

It felt so good. He'd say it, whatever Walter wanted. He could feel himself getting close now, and he grabbed Walter's cock, frantically jacking it off, still babbling 'I love you'. He didn't really understand what was happening anymore, he could hear himself saying it over and over again, and why would he say it if it wasn't true?

There was liquid, suddenly bursting over his hands – Walter coming – and the pressure suddenly increased around his cock. He thrust forwards into that exquisite tightness, as far as he could go, heat and desperation peaking inside him, and then he was coming deep inside. 

He came to collapsed over Walter, face buried in his neck. A hand was running through his hair and someone was humming softly. He groaned and moved tentatively. The movement jarred his soft cock, still buried inside Walter, and he winced. He pulled free, scrunching his face at the slippery feel and flopped down on his front.

Hands turned him over and he saw Walter, moving in closer and arranging his body until they were entwined. He laid a soft kiss on Henry's mouth and Henry let him, kissing back lazily. All of his thoughts had been washed away and for the moment he just wanted to ignore everything but the beautiful loose-limbed exhaustion. 

Walter hugged him close afterwards and Henry shuffled around until his face was once again pressed into Walter's neck, blocking out his sight. He lay there, slowly drifting off, while Walter talked softly.

"We're going to be so happy, Henry … Tomorrow, Mother will lead us into Paradise … And when we're in Paradise I can love you forever and make love to you … But next time, I'm going to be the one inside of you."

The last thought in Henry's mind before he disappeared under the waves into unconsciousness was how much like hell that Paradise would be.

\---

Awareness crept in gradually to Henry's mind; a greyish vista with a slope of fuzzy black. Henry stared at the confusing lights and shapes for a second before realising what he was actually looking at was his bedroom wall, with a close-up view of his pillow bisecting across that.

He still had his vision.

He lay still, letting that realisation sink into his mind. Secret triumph built up in him and he let a little smirk creep across his lips. _Take that, Walter_. His gamble had paid off. Looked like the Order's God wasn't omniscient after all if she hadn't even been able to tell that Henry had been faking everything.

The bed shifted suddenly, a body turning over behind him before an arm landed across his torso. Henry tensed instinctively before forcing himself to relax. It looked like Walter was waking up. The arm curled around him and Walter pressed up close to him, rubbing his face against Henry's neck.

"Morning, Walter," Henry said, keeping his voice light.

"Mmm, Henry," mumbled Walter, snuggling in closer before detaching himself and stretching out his legs, Henry rolling over to face him.

Walter looked over at him, awe creeping over his features and said, "I slept so well. I've never slept like that before."

Henry just stared at him, feeling uncomfortable with this level of sharing so early in the morning.

"Are you happy, Henry?" asked Walter, stroking a hand over Henry's face. "That's all I wanted, for you to be happy."

"I'm happy," Henry lied.

Walter smiled at him. "I'm happy too … because I have you, my Receiver."

And he embraced Henry, arms and legs wrapping around him like Henry was a possession, a favourite teddy bear. 

They lay there for a while until eventually they got up and Walter brought him breakfast. Henry gamely ate as much as he could, despite his stomach wringing itself in knots from anxiety over the coming ritual. Walter didn't seem to notice anything, gazing at Henry with a dazed happy look and talking to him about what Paradise would be like. The whole atmosphere was extremely weird; almost like they were newly-weds in the morning after their wedding night.

Henry had stopped trying to eat and was just pushing the food around his plate when Walter decided it was time for them to leave for the ritual, leading Henry down to the docks. Although he could walk fine on his own now, Henry held Walter's hand the whole way, both to give the impression he was still blind and to please Walter. He didn't do anything yet. Right now, with no weapons or allies he was no match for Walter and the other cultists, even with his vision. He needed to wait for an opening. 

He heard the screams from the docks before he could make anything out through the fog. An older woman was there, and several Order members dressed in ceremonial robes, but all Henry saw was the protesting woman being dragged towards the boat. 

"The Mother Reborn will board with us," said Walter, speaking into Henry's ear.

Walter's voice caught Eileen's attention; she stopped her thrashing for a second, mouth falling open as she noticed them both.

"Henry!" she screamed.

Henry took a step back, suddenly ashamed to face her. It felt like she could tell just by looking at him; see the oily taint on his skin of what he'd done with Walter. 

"Eileen, I-"

She fought the men holding her to get closer. "Henry, we need to get out of here! They're going to do some ritual, we need to – we need to stop them-"

Henry couldn't stand it anymore. He reached out desperately and grabbed her by the hand.

"Eileen, don't-don't worry," he said, squeezing her hand and trying to convey calmness. "It's going to be okay."

He had nothing more he could say. He felt the heavy weight of Walter's hand on his shoulder and he let himself be pulled away from her.

"I-I don't understand. Henry..."

There was horror written all over her face. Henry looked away. He wanted to reassure her more but he couldn't let himself be distracted. He threaded his fingers through Walter's and stood there while Walter pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His vision seemed to brighten and he knew She must be pleased with him. He could feel prickles of shames under the imagined condemnation of Eileen's stare, but he turned his back on her, squaring his shoulders. It didn't matter what she thought of him. His self-respect was something he would gladly sacrifice if it meant he could save her. 

It would all be worth it if he could stop this.


End file.
